Note from the Author: Ok, this is just short bit (only 15 pages?) that I churned out ASAP because, let me shout it loud, mako eyed monster, (whoever you are!) made me feel so guilty that I pounded out these pages in a record four hour sitting. Well, guilty and really REALLY happy that she, and others have stuck with this story and given me such a big ego. Thank you so much for your support, and if you keep at me by reviewing or sending flames (anything works) then I'll be forced to put out new chaps at a greater rate than twice a year. So, here's the long awaited for table dance, and I hope you enjoy it. Much mayhem to come in the next chapter and more new character cameos to start tying in the bigger picture. As always comments, suggestions, etc are appreciated and horded.

P.S. mako eyed monster. Please leave your email next time so I can thank you proper. You lit a fire under my lazy ass and I haven't been able to sleep for all the story shite for this monster running around in my head.

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Chapter 9
Table Dance

"I think you're going about this the wrong way. You're supposed to drink the thing, not concuss yourself," Reno said carefully, making sure to enunciate each syllable lest he demonstrate himself to be as drunk as he felt. Though, he supposed that Cloud simply didn't want to accept defeat and had defaulted by stalling the round in a less than sensible manner. As it were, the Ex-SOLDIER seemed to be entertaining himself by slowly beating his head against the table. It didn't help that there was a substantial puddle of alcohol soaking into his hair with each resounding 'thump' either. Droplets splashed about in unorganized amounts. Reno frowned as some of it wet the lapels of his suit.

"Now really," he slurred slightly. "Just give it up. You gave your word that which ever of us gave up first would have to do what the other said tonight."

Cloud continued to bang his head against the table.

"I can't believe you're so squeamish after all the stuff you've done. All you had to do was swallow. S'not like I specified 'chew' or anything. And hey, I drank mine didn't I?"

Bleary mako eyes looked up from under dripping strands of liquor saturated hair and regarded the Turk balefully.

"Yours was dead already. I had to pick mine up off the floor 'cause it kept jumping out."

Reno shrugged and slipped a little off his stool.

"Be a man, drink your frog."

"I will not."

"Then get up on the table and accept your loss the honorable way."

"..."

"Or drink."

The frog inside the beer mug looked particularly not in favor of this outcome and settled for casting for casting 'mini' on an unwary patron.

A passing waitress sighed and, without missing a beat, produced the third 'soft' that night. The man returned to proper size, none the wiser in his drunken state.

"I feel funny," Cloud confessed, his head drooping back to the wet table top.

"S'called being toasted."

"Drunk."

"In-e-bri-a-ted."

"In-tox-i-ca-ted."

"Sloshed."

"Hammered."

"Brained."

"Pollaxed."

"Peaked."

"Tottered."

"Wasted."

Reno made a face. "You done yet?"

"S'your turn."

The Turk ignored him. He himself was feeling a bit warmer than the alcohol warranted. Drunk sure, but this was...weird. Loose kind of. Maybe even silly. He had to keep himself in check because he kept getting this strong urge to roll around on the floor. Not dignified, but tempting. And he couldn't understand it. He really couldn't. It was one hour later and not going at all the way he had expected. For some reason he was having problems concentrating on the issue at hand. Alcohol could be the culprit here, but Reno was no stranger to ridiculous amounts of liquor. He and Cloud were currently riding waves of the stuff and there were high points, like when Mr. Secretive actually parted with a few nuggets and then there were low points, like when Mr. Secretive turned Mr. Hyde and went spooky on him. The mocking part didn't help either.

Reno squinted across the table. "Are you going to back out on our deal?!" He challenged.

Cloud made a shooing motion with his hand and looked to be stalling for time.

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Drunk as he was, Cloud was having problems sorting this out. They had been...what the hell had they been doing anyway? He was having problems with the whole memory thing. In fact, right up until he and Reno had begun a whole new round of drinks that had somehow ended in a frog (a rather unhappy one at that) nearly being drunk there was a throbbing sort of haze he was unable to penetrate. And now somehow he was backed into a corner about a deal he didn't recall making...

Impatient with the long pause while these thoughts reeled around in Cloud's mind Reno pounded his fist on the table top. "Well? Are you?!"

Jaz Cloud noticed, as usually happened mere seconds after voices became raised, was hovering on the edges of their spot, but she wasn't yelling or brandishing a gun. In fact, he was somewhat disturbed to note, she had this weird little smile on her face. This struck the ex-SOLDIER as odd, maybe even alarming somewhere in the back of his brain, but he wasn't capable of listening at the moment.

"What?" He said instead.

The Turk folded his arms across the chest, stood, and drew up to the fullest his 6 foot frame would allow. He looked like a bandy rooster.

"I'm asking you Strife, IF YOU ARE GOING TO HONOR THE BARGAIN." "You are 'honorable' aren't you?" He added with a slight sneer.

Cloud flushed red and puffed out his own chest. He pounded it a few times for good measure. "I do what I say I'll do," He asserted gravely. The rolling manner of speech the drinks had put him under however, made it sound more like, "E-ye do whhhhat e-ye say I-u-ll doo." Somewhere a 'mako eyed monster' gave a snort of laughter.

"Well then," Reno grinned, cigarette punctuating each vowel with a little waggle, "Step right up." He flourished the stool Cloud had been sitting on and brought it around close to the table between them.

Cloud stared at it blankly. Reno handed him a wad of gil and someone nudged him up onto the stool. He swayed on it dangerously and found that a man he didn't know was suddenly shoring him up from one side to keep from falling. He opened his mouth to say thanks, but snapped it shut fast when oddly he felt something being tucked neatly into the waist of his pants. When he looked down to see what it was the edges of gold embossed gil waved at him cheerfully from under the folds of his tank top. What the hell?

Using an unsteady hand to brush the bangs out of his eyes he glanced across the table and saw Jaz with most of her face buried in the palm of her hand, shoulders shaking with laughter. In her free hand she had a ten denomination gil. This was...

"Up you go!" Reno said gleefully and gave Cloud a hefty shove. The ex- SOLDIER clumsily got from stool to table and was saved from an all out sprawl only by his quick reflexes (even alcohol tinged as they were) and knelt there amidst the remains of their night. The cold dregs of a turned over beer began seeping through the knee of his pants.

"What the hell am I supposed to do up here?!"

"First you stand," Reno said.

Gods only know why he did it but he did. Cloud, with the extreme care of the extremely inebriated, managed to rise about ¾ of the way to a full stand. He looked down at Reno, at once both questioning and, in some saner part of his mind, indignant.

The red head leered at him, none too steady himself, and placed a non- threatening looking hand onto the edge of the table. "At least I'll get something out of this," the Turk said, but Cloud couldn't hear him over the babble of voices. And then he gave it a good shove.

Caught off guard by the sudden movement under his feet Cloud threw his arms out and his body strove to regain equilibrium. He leaned left as the table rocked right. He bent back a bit as the wood made a sudden lurch forward. He tipped and dipped along with the motion like a surfer feeling out the current. When the table steadied finally and banged loudly back onto all fours, he hung there, paused like some slow motion capture of a mime in the midst of a flower interpretation. He looked up, relief in his eyes at not toppling off, and was met by a roar of approval from the huge crowd surrounding the table.

The sound of his jaw dropping was loud indeed. The sound of a certain redhead making the most of the moment was even louder.

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Vincent Valentine resisted the urge to press his face into the metal claw that was his right arm (because that would probably hurt) and made his way carefully over to the commotion through the throng of people that now surrounded Cloud and the Turk.

He moved quicker when he saw the table settle and Cloud paused there, uncertain, and unsteady. Just as the blond-haired man faltered his left leg gave out and he buckled sideways. Vincent got under him at the last moment and kept him from completely falling to the floor. He set Cloud back on his feet but again the leg seemed unresponsive. Had he injured it somehow?

Vincent looked up at the Turk from under the cloud of black hair. Delaney for his part looked stunned to see him.

"Valentine," the Turk began warily.

Vincent ignored him to level a BACK-OFF-NOW gaze at the crowding patrons around them. Most took the hint and tottered back to whatever vaguely criminal things they had been up to before the show. Others had to be encouraged with a glint of metal from his arm. Reno looked down at it as well and crewed on the end of his cigarette, unimpressed.

"What, is going on here?" He asked in a low voice.

Reno sniffed disdainfully and swayed gently on his feet.

"Your leader was giving us a demonstration of the ancient art of stri-"

"I was not," interrupted Cloud with a growl from somewhere in the recesses of Vincent's long red coat. He fought his way free of it and leaned heavily on the table.

"You-"he growled.

"Me," Reno agreed.

"You," Vincent said narrowing his eyes.

"Right again," confirmed the Turk.

"-pushed the table-"Cloud said jerkily.

"I did you know," Reno confided to Jaz who tried to make it look like she was casually strolling by their table to collect empty bottles but was in fact ogling Vincent.

"I-"Cloud began, then clapped a hand to his mouth. Vincent, who had not had a drop of booze since well before each of these men was born still remembered the warning signs.

Without a wasted motion he steered AVALANCHE's leader to the bathroom and through sheer willpower alone (and some timely flashes of a rather large Desert Eagle) skipped the line entirely and shut the door firmly behind Cloud. If anyone had any problem with this he merely smiled at them, which was enough to send many to the ladies room to clean themselves up.

The raven-haired AVALANCHE member returned to Turk's table. They stared at each other for a moment before Reno, with the grace of a telemarketer on a bad day said, "What the hell are you doing here Valentine?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"If you don't know why then you must be falling out of the loop. Not hanging around with AVALANCHE anymore?" Reno said sweetly.

Something in Vincent's face closed and the gunman was surprised to note that that remark had hurt a bit. On the edges of his mind Chaos giggled.

Reno cocked his head to one side as if trying to catch something said softly. When Vincent simply stared at him he shrugged it off.

"Maybe you should ask your great leader," the red-head said.

"I am not, as you said, 'in the loop' of late, and Cloud is in no condition to tell me right now."

Reno was amused. "And you think I'll tell you what you want to know? Man, you AVALANCHE guys sure have delusions of grandeur. You think having an attitude and metal arm are the secret passwords to info? Not in this bar. Not to this Turk."

"I don't have time to waste arguing with you," Vincent said in that same flat voice.

Reno scowled and crossed his arms.

Like a child. Like a child, Chaos hissed. Vincent silenced the monster with an errant thought.

"What did you call me?"

Vincent shook his head, dark strands of hair escaping the bandage-like headband he wore.

"Reno, If you won't tell me what you're doing here with Cloud then at least let me tell you something."

"Why do I get the feeling this is gonna be like a lecture?"

"Take it as you will, but if you are traveling with Cloud I would give you a word of advice."

"You mean a warning."

"As I said, take it as you like, but Cloud is at a point here where some people, we, would see that he be safe."

The redhead uncrossed his arms and jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his navy blue slacks. "What're you trying to say Valentine? Give it to me straight. I'm beginning to remember that I don't care."

"I'll say it in language you'll understand then. Should Cloud come to any harm while in your company I will personally unload an entire clip into that hole you call a mouth."

Chaos gave a delighted snicker. Vincent, for once, let it go without clamping down on the otherly presence in his mind.

Incredibly the Turk smiled, though it was rather more nasty than what one might call 'happy'. "Now we're talking," Reno said. "You expect me to baby-sit Strife?! I knew this deal was more than coincidence."

Vincent must have let a bit of the puzzlement show through on his face because Reno's next words weren't so cock-sure.

"Well, I'll tell you now, he's here of his own doing. I don't want to be tagged with him any more than he does me. Whatever I'm doing only just happens to include him through unhappy circumstance. I don't give a flying f-ck if the next time you see chocobo head is at his funeral. Tell him to mind his goddamned self and don't think you can threaten me Valentine. It just rolls right off."

The gunman held Reno's eyes for a few moments longer to make his point. The Turk shrugged and looked down at the table irritably. Vincent continued to study him and wondered briefly, with some unfamiliar sense of nostalgia, what was to become of his former organization.

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Reno canted one hip against the table and glared at a spot just to the left of Vincent's head. Was he to really believe that Valentine had shown up in this place randomly just to give him that warning about Strife? Unlikely, but he had caught a hint of genuine 'not-knowing' from the gunman when he'd been asked about the mission.

He sniffed. As if he was going to spill niggling little details like his name in that file to a member of AVALANCHE. Bad enough that Strife knew. Odin help him if that kind of information got around. He had plenty of living enemies to deal with still even while sorting out the mess from dead ones. Damn Hojo and his experiments.

Reno snuck a glance at the gunman while Valentine was watching the bathroom area for signs of Cloud's return. He looked the same from when they had met last, fighting over the Cetra, fighting over the remains of ShinRa. His hair was still a curtain that hid as much as repelled inquiry. The gun, which Reno had pegged as soon as Valentine had stepped into the light was still the same (How had he gotten past Jaz with that huge thing?) and aside from a black leather pack over the shoulder, this Valentine was remarkably like the old one. Of course, that was a 50 year theme if the files could be believed. Vincent Valentine, ex-Turk, former member of AVALANCHE, current whereabouts unknown. That would have to be amended though.

Most recent sighting of corpse-like gunman in a Junon dive called the Lazarus Pit. News at Eleven, Reno thought. Current occupation: Creepy Asshole. Mark that one up next to Strife's new designation, "Hypocrite Jerk", and soon they'd have to just scrap all the AVALANCHE files. It would be anarchy!

But....there was probably still some useful tidbits to be gotten here. Point one: Hadn't Cloud said that Valentine had told him personally about some hidden deal between Hojo and the head of ShinRa concerning the Turks? Was this something he could get easily from the gunman? Probably not. Point two: Were all AVALANCHE members this protective of each other or was Strife a special case? Reno was inclined to the latter as from what picture he'd been able to put together of what he considered, 'the real Cloud Strife' was one of a guy who was prone to mind control, whined a lot, and had serious issues if that mark on his arm was what he thought it was.

Unconsciously Reno traced the surface of one of his own scars then jerked his hand away quickly as Vincent turned back around.

"Ah," he said, then shut his mouth as he heard that high-pitched noise again. It had come and gone while he was talking to Valentine, and on one or two occasions he could have sworn he heard words, but then again he was drunk and high-pitched voices from nowhere weren't uncommon in that state.

He looked up at Vincent's face boldly, trying to read something there. Those flat red eyes bored into his though and his stomach gave a little unhappy lurch. He looked away again, cheeks heating. Damned unnerving little things. And, while he was probably imagining it, that hazy cloud thingy by Valentine's right ear didn't make him feel any more comfortable.

To avoid even indirect meetings again, Reno fished unnecessarily long in the back pocket of his pants for a fresh smoke (it seemed he'd gone through an entire pack almost during this little party) and then packed it repeatedly against his open palm. Valentine was still staring at him as if waiting for a reply to some unspoken question. Reno was sure the other man hadn't blinked once yet.

Just kill him, the sibilant voice said from within the dark haze. Send him to that waterfall too. Shheeee would like the company.

Vincent's eyes flickered slightly and the voice abruptly cut off with a squeal. Reno kept his own eyes locked on the pack of smokes.

He was not hearing this. He was drunk and mad that a former Turk, no scratch that, psycho, demon-eyed, shadow carrying AVALANCHE reject, had just threatened him. There were no voices, he was imagining things.

The hazy thing giggled.

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Off to the side the bathroom door opened and shut and Cloud reappeared looking less disheveled but still flushed. Vincent followed Reno's glance then tracked back to the Turk's face. Surly green met inscrutable red.

"In the past the TURKS knew when heeding warnings was the best course."

Reno shook his head angrily, the red tail whipping back and forth. The gunman might not have actually drawn his weapon to make good on the threat but damned if he was going to answer to the bastard. Reno Delaney was the new TURK in charge and there was no way a ghoul like Valentine, even if he had been a part of the Turks once, had the right to lecture him as if he were subject to any authority but Reeve's. There were three Turks left and no real power behind what remained of the governing structure. They did what they could and gave a huge middle finger to people like a certain spiky-haired AVALANCHE leader and members of his team. 'Advice' his ass.

Valentine gave a sort of assenting sniff and turned to Cloud who had made his limping way over to them. Standing side by side the gunman seemed to tower over the other man.

Cloud had one gloved hand pressed to the bridge of his nose and up close he looked a bit green. Reno felt a bit green himself.

Valentine leaned down and said softly, but firmly, "I think we should get you back to your hotel."

Cloud didn't disagree.

Valentine straightened and gave Reno a very pointed look before clearing a path to the exit by virtue of presence alone. The waitress, Mina, hurried up carrying Cloud's assortment of gear. Vincent tried to take them, got a growl from their owner, and unaffected but agreeable, let Cloud have them.

Reno stalked up during this exchange and clamped a hand down on Cloud's tan shoulder while Valentine was busy staring people down and out of the way. Cloud stopped and looked back at him. The blue-green eyes were swimming slightly but aware. Reno swallowed and forced the afterimage of green-haloed brown from his mind. Cloud blinked up at him expectantly.

"We, uh...I'll meet you at the docks at eight tomorrow," he said and snapped his mouth shut.

The blond considered, pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose and finally nodded.

"At eight then," he repeated.

Reno nodded at him and watched the two leave through the wide, double black doors. He turned and made his way back to the table.

"Docks at eight, docks at eight," he said to himself, trying to set it in his mind over the buzz.

"Docks at eight," Jaz mimicked in his ear. He jumped.

"You---Don't sneak up on me like that," he groused.

She smiled winningly at him. "If I didn't catch you unawares Reno then I'd never be able to settle your bill now would I?"

"My bill...?" Reno repeated dumbly.

"Yeah," she said sweetly. "That blond guy you were with, Cloud right? He said to put it on your tab."

"On my tab?" He repeated again, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"That's right lover. And I must say, you gave me good business tonight. Between both your efforts to do yourselves permanent brain damage and that little show you put on, I did excellent sales."

"What would you say to a cut of that cover charge for the show?" Reno said, backing away. He ran into something soft, but solid behind him which turned out to be Mina. And a stun gun.

"No deal," Jaz said pleasantly. "But, I'm sure we can work it out."

Reno whimpered a little whimper.

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They walked, or rather Vincent walked and Cloud shuffled ahead of him, stubbornly lugging his gear. The gunman trailed behind him without comment however for which Cloud was grateful. Of all the AVALANCHE members who might see him in this state he was glad it was Vincent. The taller man could be counted on to not disclose embarrassing details, offer up sarcastic commentary or chatter in his ear. In short, Vincent Valentine would leave Cloud alone to wallow in his own self induced misery without interfering. He liked that about the other man.

"If I want a hangover, I damn well will get one!" Cloud declared belligerently.

A couple on the opposite side of the street paused to stare at him. Vincent placed his hand, the human one, on Cloud's shoulder and steered him back down the path.

"Which way?" he asked softly.

Cloud pointed with the full length of the Buster sword extended out from his hand. Vincent picked out the hotel from the other non-descript buildings and nudged Cloud into walking mode again. The smaller man was limping still and Vincent would have liked to have simply carried him there to avoid all the stares being directed their way. He himself could have slid easily past these people's notice, but having a blond-haired, drunk man waving a sword about in tow was making that hard.

They reached the doors without further incident and pushed inside. Cloud waved cheerily at something Vincent couldn't see but assumed was a camera from the whirling noises. In the foyer they were met by a large man with a giant mustache. The man eyed Vincent with suspicion and hefted the augmented shotgun over his shoulder meaningfully.

"Friend of yours?" He asked Cloud without removing his eyes from the gunman.

Cloud rammed the Buster sword back into its holder and hobbled forward to shake the man's hand rather vigorously.

"Barson," he said. "Meet Vincent Valentine, an old friend of mine."

Barson nodded but didn't seem encouraged by this. Vincent supposed he had that effect on people.

"Night at the bar?" The owner asked.

The ex-Turk wondered mildly which clue he had picked up on first. The overly friendly manner Cloud was currently exuding, the sharp smell of liquor, the over-exaggerated movements, the glazed look in the eyes, or perhaps it was the 5-note gil stuck still stuck in the waistband of Cloud's pants? With nary a grin Vincent scooped a coin out of his pocket and, with a movement so fast it escaped the eye, flicked it into the far corner of the foyer. Both Barson and Cloud craned their necks at the sound of the 'chink'. Vincent casually plucked the note from Cloud's pants and tucked it unobtrusively into the sword holster.

Both men looked back at Vincent. The gunman shrugged.

"Well," Barson said, eyeing the corner where the coin had landed with distrust, "see that you get yourself into bed." "It's only a single bed," he added, looking Vincent up and down.

Chaos gave a rather lewd snicker and Vincent fought to keep the color from rising in his cheeks. Cloud didn't seem to pick up on the insinuation.

"I'm just making sure he gets to his room," the gunman clarified.

Barson nodded at him, manner a bit less aggressive.

"Third floor. You can take the lift if you don't feel like carrying him."

Cloud straightened slightly. "I can do just fine on my own," he said slowly, carefully.

Vincent clapped a hand on his shoulder again and steered him towards where Barson had indicated the lift to be.

"Thank you," he said over his own shoulder.

"Just keep him out of trouble. Guy looks like it just follows him around...."

Vincent couldn't really argue with that.

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Once inside the lift Cloud stopped pretending he was capable of walking and slid into a half sitting position on the floor. Vincent eyed him with concern.

"What happened to your leg?" he asked quietly as the lift started up.

"Stupid snake..."

"Snake?" A snake had done that?

Cloud banged his back against the wall rather hard and stared up at the ceiling.

"Th' jerk had to go an catch its attention. Took one of my Shiva spells and a lot of overtime. Stupid Zolom. Stupid Reno."

The lift stopped with a jerk and the doors opened.

Vincent wasn't sure if he was to actually believe that the Midgar Zolom had given Cloud such a hard time. Cloud and a Turk, though it seemed Cloud had taken the worst of the damage. With a frown he leaned down and hauled Cloud up off the floor.

"Getting tired of doing this..." The blond said with feeling, but Vincent didn't know which he meant; being drunk or being half-carried. He set the smaller man down on the edge of the bed and went to the bathroom to fill a glass of water. When he came back Cloud was sitting upright and looked a bit more collected. The gloved hand was still pressed against his forehead however. Vincent handed him the water and stared down, uncertain what to say.

Cloud sipped at it and then looked up at him with a small, tired smile on his face.

"Feeling better?"

"You know, you're the last person I expected to baby me."

Vincent stared down at him, unreadable as usual. "I'm not here because I'm checking up on you."

"Is that what they told you to say?"

"I'll leave now if that's what you want."

Cloud put his hand down and stared at the glass.

"Then why are you here Vincent?"

"Here now, or here in Junon?"

Cloud snorted. "You're something else. You know though...this is probably the longest conversation we've had in months. You've been MIA. Tifa was beginning to organize a search party."

Vincent shrugged. "I have been working as a merchant guard. That's why I'm in Junon tonight. As you know, since ShinRa collapsed it's been more difficult to transport goods because there are no armed guards anymore and virutally no one manning the posts between towns. People have to hire bodyguards now to go on extended trips."

Cloud nodded. "Yeah. Business is booming. Maybe too much. I hardly even have to leave Costa del Sol and there's always work to be had. Reeve needs to get organized."

The gunman gave a rare smile. "Then we'd be out of business."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So anyway, about tonight, do me a favor and not mention it."

There was no response.

"I mean it," Cloud said. "Ever."

"If that's what you want."

"I want." Cloud agreed and then groaned as he had the sudden fun experience of what resembled an ice cream headache.

"Shall I leave you to yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah," Cloud chattered. Vincent turned to leave but found his cape was holding him back as the end was held in a gloved hand.

"Wait a sec Vincent. Before you head off to places unknown again don't leave without calling one of us. There's something stirring and I don't know what it is yet, but we might need you. Don't disappear."

Vincent gave him a short nod. Cloud didn't seem finished yet though he gave another pitiful moan and hung his head between his knees. His voice was muffled but the words came out clear enough.

"I mean it and not just because we might need your help later on. You're missed Valentine. Don't blow off another barbeque or Yuffie'll come after you herself."

Vincent's expression was hidden by his hair but he gave another nod.

"And thanks," Cloud said.

"For what?"

He got a rueful smile for that.

"Thanks for not leaving me to that pack of wolves in there."

The next words were said with care as if they hadn't really been a part of his vocabulary before.

"Anything for a friend."

And then he left, thinking fleetingly that the signs were good and AVALANCHE's leader was becoming himself again.

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End Note: There's bound to be tons of weird grammatical shite going on in here so apologies and I will get to them. I was just impatient to get the thing up b/c A: It's late and I'm tired and B: It's been a long time coming. So, anyway, hope this satisfied some and holds the rest of you for the next bit. Ciao till then. -Moira 06/01/04